


In the Moment

by clevagirl (lescafenix)



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-09
Updated: 2018-09-09
Packaged: 2019-07-08 20:24:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,885
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15937634
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lescafenix/pseuds/clevagirl
Summary: Prompto tends to an injured Ignis at Hammerhead, and they both decide to live in the moment.





	In the Moment

**Author's Note:**

  * For [nan](https://archiveofourown.org/users/nan/gifts).



> Prompt: Ignis takes care of everyone so much, I'd really like to see Prompto to try to take care of him. Maybe a massage? Helping him cook? Prompto trying (and failing?) to assist and Ignis being utterly charmed. I'd love to see this turn into a sexual encounter but really cute cuddling would also be nice.

The dark never got easier. The daemons never ended, and it seemed like that even after two years, Prompto was still finding new refugees to take to safety in Lestallum. It was heartening to know people had survived this long -- finding the bodies was far worse, entire families, pets, solitary people struck down on the way to find help. People either hadn’t heeded the warnings to shelter in place until help came, or help hadn’t been able to reach them in time and their supplies had run out.

Prompto dragged himself through the gates of Hammerhead, eager to put the sights and experiences of the day from his mind, restock on supplies and charge his phone. To his delight, a new delivery of supplies had come in, which meant tuna, crackers and even some chocolate for the right price. And oh, was Prompto willing to pay.

He carried his haul to the nearest caravan to use its table for an impromptu picnic spot, noticing as he approached that the door was closing behind someone entering the camper. With a sigh, he started to turn to find another picnic spot when alarm bells went off in his head. That jacket looked really familiar. He dashed over and pounded on the door. “Iggy? Iggy, is that you?”

There was no answer, and for a heart-sinking moment, Prompto thought that he might have been mistaken. That's... _embarrassing_. He set his food on the table and went to sit down, when the door opened and a shaky voice echoed out.

“Prompto?”

“Iggy, it is yo--oh shit!” Prompto gasped when the light caught Ignis’s face. It was smeared with blood, and he could see blood welling from several wounds there. “What the hell happened to you?”

“Small encounter with a daemon,” Ignis grit out, disappearing back into the caravan. “It’s nothing.”

“Nothing, shmothing!” Prompto cried out, snatching up his food and darting into the caravan. “You’re bleeding all over the place!”

Ignis was sorting through his backpack, obviously looking for first aid supplies. His hands were trembling, but Prompto could see he was fighting to keep his composure.

“Here. Let me,” Prompto said. Ignis made a noise as though he were going to object, but his hands fell limp, and he sat down on the bench next to the counter. Prompto dug through the meticulously organized bag to produce some gauze and antiseptic. He soaked the gauze and began to gently clean up Ignis’s face.

“It’s good to see you again,” Prompto said quietly as he gingerly dabbed at the gash across the bridge of his nose.

Ignis hissed. “Your voice is most welcome as well,” he said visibly schooling his breaths. “It’s a happy coincidence we were both here at the same time.”

“No kidding. Who would have helped clean this up if I hadn’t been here?” Prompto murmured, moving his attention to the cut over his eye.

Ignis chuckled. “Me. Who else?” he asked.

“That’s not right,” Prompto said. “You always take care of everyone else. When do you get taken care of?”

“Oh, Prompto,” Ignis said with a sigh, grunting again as Prompto moved to his lip, which was split deeply. “That time passed when I was five years old.”

“Bullshit. You’re never too old to be taken care of. Especially in this shithole of a world. If we can’t have something small like that, what do we have?”

“The future,” Ignis replied. “We have to prepare for the future, when Noct returns.”

“Right, I get that.” Prompto wasn’t exactly sure how to keep that cut on Ignis’s lip closed, so he held the gauze there. “But while we’re preparing for the future, we’ve got to live right now, you know?” He squeezed Ignis’s bicep with his other hand, and he saw the other man’s eyes crinkle in a smile that would have painfully made its way to his lips had Prompto not been holding them with gauze.

“I suppose you have a point,” Ignis conceded, letting his eyes sink closed. He reached up and tugged one of his gloves off, then touched Prompto’s face gingerly with his bare fingers.

Prompto smiled as Ignis’s fingers explored his face. “Check the chin,” he said.

Ignis’s lips moved beneath the gauze Prompto was holding. “Ah, given up on shaving like so many of the other hunters?” he asked, lightly brushing his fingers over the patch on Prompto’s chin.

“Not quite,” Prompto said, unconsciously turning his face into Ignis’s ginger fingertips. He never really thought of Ignis as a gentle guy, but the care with which he explored his face made his skin break out into goosebumps and made his groin stir. “More like a hobby. I mean hey, if nothing else will grow in this place, at least I can grow that.”

Ignis threw his head back and laughed genuinely, his body shaking with mirth, followed by a groan of pain from his injuries.

“Hey, take it easy. You’ll split your lip open at that rate,” Prompto said, brushing a thumb fondly over Ignis’s lip without thinking.

“A chance I’ll have to take,” Ignis murmured, his breath catching at the contact of bare skin and tender, wounded lip. “The odds are slightly better than fighting daemons, I suppose.”

“I still can’t believe you’re doing that on your own,” Prompto said. “You could get killed!”

“I must practice, though,” Ignis replied. “I can’t prepare for the future if I don’t push myself. If I don’t take risks. I’m no use to Noctis as an invalid.”

“You’ve never been an invalid,” Prompto said. “You were kicking ass right after you were hurt! You’re plenty of use. To Noctis, and-- not just Noctis.”

“You’re too kind,” Ignis chuckled, as Prompto continued to caress his lower lip. “You always have been too kind to me.”

“Okay, so now that this meeting of the mutual appreciation society has convened,” Prompto said with a sheepish chuckle. Apparently neither of them could take a compliment.

Ignis laughed again as well. “Yes, well,” he said, then trailed off with a sigh. Prompto lingered in the not-quite-awkward silence for several minutes, before he had to break it.

“It IS really good to see you again.” He knew this time wouldn’t last. It was almost a compulsion, to keep pushing, keep searching, keep working. Neither of them could allow themselves downtime with a clear conscience. Prompto brushed his thumb along Ignis’s lip again, then paused for a moment and leaned in.

“Prompto, what are you--” Ignis began, but was cut off by a soft kiss to the lips. “Prompto?”

Prompto knew to keep the kiss light, to avoid splitting Ignis’s wounded lip again. He wasn’t sure what he was doing. It was dark, it was lonely, you could barely trust anyone, and it was just so damn good to see Ignis again.

Ignis’s protests died against Prompto’s lips, and his hand returned to Prompto’s face, fingertips lightly tracing along his jawbone. Prompto moved to kissing the corner of Ignis’s mouth to spare his wounded lip, and he could feel Ignis’s erratic breath against his cheek. Prompto continued to kiss along Ignis’s jawbone, then to his ear, nuzzling the lobe, which also bore a scar.

Ignis’s hands moved from Prompto’s face to his neck, then down to his shoulders, then waist. Prompto had never kissed a man, and the firmness of Ignis's grip on his waist was comforting and titillating at the same time. His arousal had gone from a low, interested throb to full-blown need, and he wasn’t sure what to do about it. However, Ignis seemed to be all in, fingertips digging in to his sides.

He wasn’t going to ask any questions. Why bother?

Prompto continued his exploration of Ignis's jawline, feeling the stubble of a day (or more) against his lips. Ignis groaned appreciatively, and Prompto idly wondered when the last time was that _anyone_ had done this for Ignis. He never seemed particularly interested in girls, or guys for that matter. He'd pretty much been in an exclusive relationship with his job. It didn't seem like any of that had changed now that Noct was gone.

Ignis's guard seemed to be down, at least a bit. Prompto took the opportunity to venture a light bite to his neck, which elicited an approving groan. Making out with men couldn't be that different from women -- stubble aside -- and the prospect of doing something new, something almost forbidden and clandestine under the cloak of permanent darkness was titillating. He attacked Ignis's neck with renewed fervor, letting the changes in his grip tell the story of what he liked best. Ignis seemed to like it a little rough, a little demanding. Prompto could do that.

Prompto wanted to do that. Ignis deserved this.

There was no teasing, no playing around. Even kissing felt like a waste of time, since they both knew that they'd be back out in the field before Ignis's wounds had even begun to knit. There were always more refugees, always more daemons, always more darkness. Prompto sank to his knees, playing this by ear in the same way he'd played so much else in his life for the last two years. Nobody would know. Even if they did know, who would care in this world?

"Prompto-- are you-- what?" Ignis gasped, his fingers flailing to find Prompto's head, skittering down his arm to his hands to confirm what was happening. They stayed over Prompto's at first, gripping the zipper with them, curling with them, stroking with them, squeezing with them. "I-- you-- oh--" Eventually, his protests, along with his hands, fell away. Ignis gripped the edges of the bench, head resting against the caravan wall. His lips pursed with each stroke, breath hissing through his teeth. 

Prompto's blood hammered in his ears, in symphony with Ignis's sharp breaths and the movements of his hand. This was all surreal. He never could have imagined when they'd set out on their journey with Noct that this is how they'd end up. Dirty, scarred, bleeding and desperate for any scrap of comfort they could give or get. Giving this to Ignis was far more satisfying than the last half-hour 'date' he had in the Hammerhead men's room.

Ignis's breathing grew increasingly ragged, and Prompto reached down to fumble with his own zipper, a guttural groan escaping from his throat despite his best efforts. He stroked in rhythm, firm, fast, almost rough. 

They came together. Prompto felt his own orgasm well up and spill over before he could even slow it down, and Ignis followed almost immediately. Prompto's forehead dropped on to Ignis's thigh and they panted together in silence for a few minutes, before Prompto sat up and wiped his hand with some of the gauze he had been using on Ignis. Ignis zipped his trousers back up with a breathless laugh.

"That was--" Ignis began, then cleared his throat. "Thank you."

Prompto squeezed Ignis's bicep. "Seriously. Thank _you_."

There was another long silence, and Ignis then spoke again. "Have you eaten? I have some leftover stew that I created whilst at camp that I would be happy to share."

Prompto laughed. "Back to caretaking already," he said, shaking his head fondly. But Ignis was already on his feet, shuffling around the caravan.

The moment had passed.


End file.
